


The Sport of Steeles

by tigerbright



Category: Remington Steele (TV)
Genre: Baseball, Gen, Interstitial, Movie Reference, Yuletide, challenge:Yuletide 2006
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-08
Updated: 2013-05-08
Packaged: 2017-12-10 18:36:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/788937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigerbright/pseuds/tigerbright
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Many thanks to rubynye for beta reading, to Netflix for having the 5th season DVD available, and to my LJ friends, especially redaxe, happyfunpaul, and annonynous, for helping me with minor league baseball facts.</p>
    </blockquote>





	The Sport of Steeles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eponine119](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eponine119/gifts).



> Many thanks to rubynye for beta reading, to Netflix for having the 5th season DVD available, and to my LJ friends, especially redaxe, happyfunpaul, and annonynous, for helping me with minor league baseball facts.

Laura Holt-Steele was not pleased.

To her left, determinedly staring out the window of the train, was the man she had just kissed. Archaeologist? Immigrations agent? CIA? Double agent? She didn't know, and as attractive as he was, she was sick of his getting in the way of her honeymoon.

Across the compartment, examining his immaculately-kept fingernails, was the man she had not-quite married, the man she had loved for over four years despite misgivings. She had turned her best detective skills to finding out who he was, but she had finally accepted him as who he claimed to be, knowing that clues would continue to be dropped in her path, and he would share what he could.

Now, it seemed, her mysterious husband had inherited a castle in Ireland. She shook her head, and met her husband's eye. He winked at her.

"So, Tony," Remington remarked, in his driest tone, "tell me something real about you, won't you?"

"Like what?" Tony retorted. "That I sucked my thumb till I was in kindergarten? That I nearly flunked high-school chemistry despite having the fourth-highest grades in my class?"

"I'm not looking for embarrassing, Tony," Remington replied, in a tone that indicated he wouldn't mind in the slightest. "Just a little something about who you are." Laura smirked to herself, knowing that Remington was probably thinking, "Other than a boor and a prat who's horning in on my wife and trying to get me arrested, of course."

Tony shrugged and turned back to the window.

Laura sighed, met her husband's eye, and nodded. "Well, you told me in Mexico that you'd injured your shoulder playing minor league baseball... or was that another fantasy?"

"I have always been straight with you," Tony replied indignantly. He met her eyes, at once trying to charm her and plead with her to take his side, just once. Laura rolled her eyes, and he looked down. "Well, when I could be." Laura smiled encouragingly. "I was just another Italian kid growing up in Queens, and getting picked on for being smart and small was no fun. My dad told me I had to do some sports to get some respect, and I tried out for Little League. Well, my grades didn't get Dad to be proud of me, but baseball did. And he pushed me and pushed me until even Coach told him to leave me the hell alone. So there I was with a high school degree, and four years of high school baseball behind me. I'd gotten into college but I didn't want to go to Queens College or St. John's, and we didn't have enough money to send me anywhere else, even state colleges. Then I saw in the paper that there were going to be National League minor league tryouts. And I thought, well, at least the Yankees are American League."

"So you fervently believe that the Yankees are damned, then," Remington put in, eyes twinkling.

"Gwen Verdon, Tab Hunter, 1958," Laura said automatically.

Tony gave a "why me?" look to the heavens. "Hey, I grew up in Queens, it was heresy to think anything else! And don't even talk to me about the Dodgers... they've been anathema since they moved to LA in 1957. But anyway. Much to my surprise, I found myself in Binghamton, having been good enough to make it onto the Mets AA team. You know, there's a lot of snow in Binghamton in the off-season... it was a good thing they paid me a decent salary, because I needed more different kinds of winter gear than I'd ever believed existed before."

"No wonder you ended up in South America," Laura said sweetly. Remington smirked. Tony shrugged. "So what's all this about preferring the wild country to cities, when you grew up in one?"

Tony looked down. "Well, I'd kinda got used to it while going all over South America. There's something... primal about it, you know?"

"Atavistic, even?" Remington asked. Laura hid a smirk.

"If you want to be pretentious about it, Remmy. But anyway. So there I was in Binghamton, working my tail off to get up to AAA and get the hell out of the frozen north. Finally, I got a break, and I was on my way to New Orleans."

"And then?"

"First game with the Zephyrs, there I was in my usual spot in right field, and the batter hit what was surely meant to be a homer. I caught it."

"Wow," Laura said, in the tone of one praising a child for his latest scribble.

"Yeah, yeah, slammed up against the wall, arm back over the top, the whole shebang. Then I spent the next nine months mostly unable to use my right arm or shoulder. When all the surgery and rest and physical therapy was done, my baseball career was over."

"And then?" Laura asked.

Tony looked out the window again. Laura was about to prod further, when the conductor rapped on the door. "Holyhead, five minutes!" he called, and Tony jumped.

"Gosh, is it that time already? I'm going to go wash up, I guess I'll see you on the ferry." Looking rather like Casey after a strikeout, he walked past both of them and out the door.

Laura looked across the compartment at Remington and sighed. "I guess we'll try again on the ferry."

"Don't get your hopes up, Laura. His guard may have slipped, but I'll bet you we can't get a single thing out of him on the ferry." They stood and stretched. Remington peeked out the door, looked both ways down the corridor, and closed the door again. "But first--" He pulled her into an embrace, and they quickly kissed, then stood looking into one another's eyes.

"There you are!" Mildred's voice cut through the romantic moment. "I knew I'd find you on this train when we got to the ferry!"

The pair broke the kiss, and looked into each other's eyes for a moment. "Mr. Steele, will we ever get a moment alone?"

"Castle, Mrs. Steele. Bound to be plenty of room for everyone."

"I dearly hope you're right, Mr. Steele. I truly do."

 


End file.
